Inevitability
by TheManClimbingtheHologram
Summary: An original story set in the world of Madoka Magica, Inevitability explores the story of two children in Victorian London and their battles with fate in its many forms. This story also explores an interesting facet of Madoka's story, noticeably the lack of magical boys in the show proper. All OC. Rated T for some mature themes.


**Hello and welcome to my first fanfiction,** ** _Inevitability._** I plan on making this a medoum-length project, with at least 20 chapters of a similar length to this one. Feedback is appreciated. Dont expect regular updates either, at least not for now, as I tend to only be in a writing mood at certain points.

 _~~Hologram man_

He was completely out of breath.

His feet pounded on cobblestone, slipping on the wet ground, as he sprinted through the rain-tormented alleyways of central London. Walls loomed far above him on either side, blocking any light that the moon might have provided, and the labyrinth of buildings muted the bustle of the city. He was heavily burdened by the package he held in his arms, however to drop the package would make his efforts up until now pointless.

'I know you're there, Tom Fletcher', came the dreaded shout.

Tom had no choice but to remain as silent as possible whilst continuing his escape. Fortunately, his knowledge of the back streets was almost unparalleled, and so he managed to evade his pursuers for quite some time. He turned to his left, then to the right, was careful to avoid the mad wails he heard on the next corner and then turned right again and bumped straight into a large, brown object.

'Hello', said the object, which seemed on examination to be less an object than a tall man in a brown overcoat.

'H-hello mister'

'What on earth is a boy of your age doing running around at a time like this, and in a place like this?'

'W-well, I was just-'

'Running away from something?'

'I-'

The man cut him off with a sudden movement, smoothly stepping around Tom in what seemed like an instant. Tom glanced behind himself instinctively to see the man beckoning in a shooing motion. Remembering his situation, he sprinted off into another side alley, pressing himself against the wall anxiously. Footsteps arrived from the direction of the man.

'I don't suppose you've seen a boy carrying a small bag around these parts, have you sir?'

'A boy? Why yes I have! In quite a hurry, he seemed to be – ran right past me and straight on! No manners at all!'

'Thank you good sir, you may well have helped us to catch a thief.'

'A thief, eh? These youngsters really do need to learn their place these days.'

'I'll be sure to teach the scoundrel a lesson.' The footsteps advanced towards the alleyway in which Tom was hiding…and hurried right past. He realised he had been holding his breath, and sighed with relief.

He looked down at the prize he had stolen, and smiled: this would be enough to feed his father for a day, maybe even two. And that shopkeeper could go on a wild goose chase for hours for all he cared. His eyes noticed a disturbance, however, beyond the stale bread rolls he held in his dirty hands. The usually uneven stones beneath his feet seemed to be morphing in front of his eyes, changing fluidly as if disturbed by some strange life form beneath the ground.

'Tch.'

Tom peered back around the corner at the man in the brown coat, who seemed disturbed by something. Even the walls, now, were bulging and shrinking, and now they were turning blue and red and pink and before he knew it everywhere was turning upside-down and he tripped over and fell to the floor, overwhelmed.

Funny, he was sure it had been night just a minute ago. If so, then why was the sky coloured red, and why were clouds scraping across the sky? Was this a dream? A nightmare? The man, at least, seemed to be seeing the same scene. He pulled out a watch from his coat pocket and flipped it open; all the while with his facial expression unstirred by the circumstances. Turning towards Tom, he spoke:

'I'm sure you're a little surprised by this situation here.'

Tom nodded, words failing to form.

'In a short while, help will arrive, however it is imperative that we find a place to hide. The labyrinth of a witch is not easily escaped, and the wrath of a witch is not easily avoided.'

Dumbfounded was perhaps the best way to describe Tom, who was usually quick to adapt to unfamiliar situations but had little capacity for a shock of this nature. Nonetheless, he found himself following the reliable-seeming form of the man in front of him, as he was led through this surreal land.

'We have ten minutes until this witch awakens, based on its current activity. Whatever you do, try not to go near any moving objects, yes? Can't have people needlessly dying, God knows what she'd do.'

The last part of his sentiment was muttered, and for the first time Tom noticed a small amount of contempt in the man's voice, although the slight oddness in the man's words escaped his interest. He was becoming a little more accustomed to his surroundings now, although the strange combinations of various objects didn't escape his attention: a number of broken, cracked bathtubs were surrounded by pools of blood; blankets stained the same colour. The floor, upon closer inspection, was wooden in texture, and bent slightly beneath the feet.

Looking back up at the stranger who was leading him to God-knows-where, Tom felt a surge of anxiety; flickers of movement were visible at the edge of his vision, and the man's words seemed threatening in more ways than one.

They turned a corner in the nightmare city and found themselves faced by a high-walled alleyway, much like the street in which they had met - yet this street was constructed from white, cracked porcelain and golden metal. At the end sat a small object, which raised its head upon their arrival.

'Why that's-that's a-', Tom could hardly believe his eyes. Before him was a child's teddy bear, evidently well-used and lacking one eye. Protruding from its chest was a single black bead, about the size of a fist. He started to walk towards it but the strange man's hand pulled him back.

'It appears my estimate was off, boy. This witch is far closer to awakening than I had imagined. It would be wise to run-'

His voice cut off with a sudden grunt of disapproval. The street behind them had bent around and cut off any exits, enclosing them in a dome of bloodstained white. The man muttered something unintelligible about curses and pulled out a fob watch from his pocket. His expression remained impassive.

'Ah well, the girl should arrive soon enough.'

'Girl? Which girl?'

'For now we need to defend ourselves from this until she arrives...boy, do you have any weapons? No? I didn't think so.' The man ignored Tom's increasingly angry and confused expression and turned to the ceiling of the dome which now trapped them. Meanwhile the bear seemed to be swelling. It now stood almost half a metre high when before it had been half of that. The head bulged to the side and the previously only ragged cover was now bursting at the seams.

Suddenly the yarn holding the bear together snapped, and stuffing burst out. A smooth round head made of the same white porcelain as the surroundings burst out of the chest of the broken toy and swallowed the bead protruding from it. The teeth of this otherwise faceless thing were stained with the same blood as the city, and as it climbed out it became apparent that its shape resembled that of a small baby, although its size was difficult to fathom, since it seemed impossible that a creature of its size could have crawled out of such a small toy.

The baby-shaped thing pulled its legs out of the bear. It towered at least ten feet above Tom and had no features other than a mouth and the occasional bit of stuffed toy lodged in its cracked body. It lurched forwards.

Shaking with a sudden and great fear, Tom stumbled backwards into the man, who had not budged an inch. Somehow, though, the feel of his smooth coat did not comfort the young boy. Meanwhile, the baby-like creature continued to stagger forwards with its drunken, unsure motion. The slit that seemed to function as a mouth twisted first into a terrible, silent cry and then into a grotesque grin.

'Right on time', came the monotone from behind Tom.

At the same time, a few pieces of rubble landed at his feet. When he looked up, he saw a small hole in the ceramic prison. He was dragged backwards by the man as more debris fell from the ceiling, and a pair of legs came flying down. On closer inspection, the legs were attached to a girl, perhaps a few years older than him. She had a nice face.

'Ah, Bates, I see you've brought an unexpected visitor', rang out her voice. She was clearly well-spoken, and held herself with a certain poise that marked her as of a certain class.

'Well, I suppose your cry for help was warranted, at least. Can't have witches on the rampage killing poor helpless boys.'

Tom was too dazed to process her remark, simply stuttering something unintelligible in his confusion. The girl simply turned away to face the monstrosity, which had watched with some fascination.

'I suppose I should destroy this witch then.'

'That is your duty, after all, magical girl.'

The voice from behind Tom seemed to have the slightest trace of spite in it, although the face of the man known as Bates was as impassive as ever.


End file.
